


You Give Me Ideas, I’ll Write Them (I gotchu fam)

by orphan_account



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Falsettos - Lapine/Finn, Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Angst, Caretaking, Caretaking!Evan, Changing out in the locker room, Cuddles, Does Rich Goranski is wingman, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gimme suggestions ya’ll, Jared Kleinman is the ultimate wingman, Kisses, Literally anything YOU suggest, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, P.E., Panic Attacks, Pining, Playing in the Snow, Pretty gay but no homo right, SO MUCH FLUFF, Smut, Tea, Zoe is so unimpressed, first kiss(es), sick days, sick!connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Title says it all.They will be oneshots, probably around 1,000 to 3,000 words depending on the prompt. More info in first chapter, yo.





	1. Chapter 1

Hello and welcome to the wonderous world of JarorraKunSenpaiSan! (Lol what am I doing I’m so awkward).

So basically, you can drop a comment heere and I will try to write your prompt. There are a few ships that I won’t do because I myself don’t ship them; I don’t want to be writing something that I don’t enjoy and isn’t as passionate as it could be. 

I don’t do rape/non-con or pedo crap, sorry but that’s just my preference. 

I’m fine with smut,,,so,,,use that to your advantage. 

You can also come yell at me on my newly made and uhm don’t judge me but kind of lame-ass tumblr page!! I’m jarorrakunsenpaisan!

(P.S. I do gay stuff better than straight stuff. But like I’ll still do straight ships, obviously. Lol k sEE YA DROP SOME COMMENTS IF YOU HAVE A PROMPT).

EDIT: As an author, I have the right to refuse to write (heh) any of the prompts that anyone suggests. It isn’t anything personal, people. I’m a person just like you and there are some things I’m not comfortable writing. I am on my knees, begging you all to understand this :3.


	2. Pieces: Prompt #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy’s life was like a scattered game board. 
> 
> Game pieces strewn everywhere. 
> 
> Cards bent and torn at the corners. 
> 
> Box flimsy and falling apart. 
> 
> It felt like there was a fan that was constantly blowing everything around in Jeremy’s brain. He could never quite focus on one thing. Could never find a state of peace. 
> 
> Well, unless he was with Michael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Vitaminz! (I kind of splurged a little, but I hope you like it. >.<)

Jeremy’s life was like a scattered game board. 

Game pieces strewn everywhere. 

Cards bent and torn at the corners. 

Box flimsy and falling apart. 

It felt like there was a fan that was constantly blowing everything around in Jeremy’s brain. He could never quite focus on one thing. Could never find a state of peace. 

Well, unless he was with Michael. 

“Dude!” Michael screeched, bringing a pillow down to hit Jeremy’s head, successfully waking him up from his slumber. “It just snowed, like, the powder-iest snow you’ve ever seen! We gotta go outside and make, like, snow penises!” Michael consistently slammed Jeremy with the pillow throughout his little dialogue. 

“It’s...like...” Jeremy glanced at the clock grumpily from under the covers. “3 A.M. Go back to bed, Michael.” He pulled the covers up over his head, sighing at the warmth. 

There was silence for a second. And then the covers were being peeled off of Jeremy’s poor, cold little body. 

Ah, yes. Michael always managed to turn off Jeremy’s brain-fan. 

As the cold of the basement surrounded him, Jeremy groaned in surrender. He’d been defeated. Michael was not going to give up. 

“Fine, fine.” Jeremy muttered, finally opening his eyes and rubbing them. Michael had already thrown on his hoodie, but still had on his Megaman print pajama pants. He was grinning, and as Jeremy smacked his lips, still trying to wake up, Michael wriggled his eyebrows. “Do you wanna build a snowman?” He sang, leaning in close and snuggling into Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy laughed and shoved him away, rolling his eyes. 

After Jeremy sluggishly pulled on his jacket and a pair of Michael’s boots because “I’m not going out there in my Vans, are you kidding?”, the two were climbing Michael’s stairs. 

“So, remind me again why you’re awake at 3 A.M.?” Jeremy asked as they reached Michael’s front door. Michael smiled cheekily at Jeremy. “The snow, obviously!” Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Snow doesn’t exactly make noise. Why were you awake before you noticed the snow?” Jeremy asked the question like an over-protective mother, stern and demanding. Michael stared at a spot behind Jeremy’s face on the wall, rubbing his neck. “Uh, well, you see...I was...thirsty! Yeah! So I got a cup of water and then I saw the snow and—“

“Michael Monica Mell, don’t you dare lie to me.” Jeremy said fiercely, reaching forward and placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Geez, you sound like Christine.” Michael muttered with a small laugh. Jeremy shrugged, about to reply, but Michael beat him to it. “It was literally just a nightmare. Nothing crazy. I woke up and came upstairs for water to calm down and I saw the snow. Okay?” Michael hooked his hand on Jeremy’s forearm and gave it a little squeeze. Jeremy nodded slowly. “Okay. We can talk about it if you—“

“Talk later, play in the snow now.” Michael said, pulling the door open and rushing out. Jeremy scoffed, but was cut off by the cold hitting him. He already missed the warm bed. 

“Let’s make something!” Michael called to Jeremy, whom was shutting the door and already shivering. “If I help you make a snowman, will you let me go back inside?” Jeremy complained, stepping into the fresh snow that—wow, that really was powdery. Michael was trying to clump together the snow, but it wasn’t sticking. Jeremy sighed, long and irritated. “Right. Powdery snow isn’t for snowmen. You woke me up at 3 A.M. for snow that we can’t even play with. Best friend rights have been removed.” 

Michael just looked up and scrunched his nose, giving up on making a snowball. “Maybe it’s too powdery for snowmen, but we can make snow angels!” He promptly fell backwards into the snow, laughing. Jeremy couldn’t help but smile as Michael moved his arms and legs, suddenly belting Bob Marley. 

He stomped over and stood beside Michael, positioning himself before falling backwards. When he hit the snow, it luckily didn’t hurt. He just sunk into it. “Don’t worry! About the thing!” Jeremy began to sing with Michael as he moved his own arms and legs. Michael grinned at Jeremy and just sang louder still, into the cold darkness of Red Bank, New Jersey at 3 A.M.

These were the moments. The moments when Jeremy’s brain-fan turned off. When Michael seemed to create a whole different universe with just a few words. A universe just for the two of them where nothing else mattered. A place where Jeremy was enough. Enough for Michael, at least. 

He turned to Michael, who’d stopped moving in the snow and was just staring up at the starry night (morning?) sky. Jeremy took the chance and let himself stare. His eyes traced the curve of Michael’s neck. The chubbiness beneath Michael’s chin. The round cheeks, tinted pink from the cold. Jeremy watched as Michael’s warm breath came out in little puffs, steady. 

Michael was gorgeous. Beautiful in every way.   
‘Wow, can you stop being so gay? It’s only 3 in the morning, Jesus.’ Jeremy cursed himself inwardly. 

And then Michael turned to Jeremy, a small smile on his lips. Jeremy turned around quickly as almost a reflex, and then turned red because that would cease any doubts that he had totally been staring a second ago. He stared at the stars and tried to calm his blush down. “S-So. We made angels. Anything else on your agenda?” Jeremy asked quietly, refusing to look at Michael. Michael was silent for a second. Then he shifted, sitting up and standing. Jeremy finally looked at his friend as he brushed off the snow from his hoodie and pants. 

Michael held out a hand to Jeremy, lips in a small smile still. Jeremy took it, pushing himself up and out of the snow angel. Once they were standing, Michael gave Jeremy’s hand one more squeeze and then let go, walking out of the snow and into the driveway. Jeremy followed, frowning slightly but grateful that his blush had dialed down a little. “Wanna walk to 7-Eleven? I’m in the mood for some crappy gas station hot chocolate.” Michael grinned, looking back at Jeremy. Jeremy nodded hastily, sticking his hands into his pockets. “Y-yeah. Sure. But if I’m a popsicle by the time we get there, you’d better be thawing me out.” Michael laughed at that, holding up a hand and placing over over his heart. “Scouts honour.” 

So the two walked the sidewalk, side by side, in silence. 

“So.” Michael said finally. Jeremy glanced over, biting his lip. “S-So.” They took a few more steps. Silence between them was never awkward. But there was something unexplainable in the air. It felt like they were both waiting for something to happen. 

And then Michael opened his mouth and said, “C-Can you hold my hands? I usually warm them up by the fireplace, but you’re way hotter.” 

Jeremy choked on air, stumbling to a stop on the sidewalk. Was that...a pick up line? From Michael? 

Michael’s eyebrows were creased in slight fear as he met Jeremy’s eyes, but he continued on. “I think I might have pneumonia. ‘Cause you’re giving me chills.” Jeremy felt his cheeks begin to burn, but his heart was also fluttering helplessly in his chest. A small smile creeped onto his lips. Michael perked up at that, like he’d been waiting for some confirmation from Jeremy. Michael took a step to the side, spreading his hands. “Do you wanna hiber-mate—“ 

Michael suddenly slipped on ice, flailing for a second before hitting the sidewalk. Jeremy couldn’t hold back a snort as he reached down and offered a hand to Michael, still red. “Nice job, Micah. You killed the mood.” Michael took Jeremy’s hand with a nervous smile, but then said, “Black ice isn’t the only thing I’m falling for.” 

And as Michael tried to pull himself up, Jeremy accidentally let go, letting out a very attractive squealing noise because ‘Oh my god Michael is flirting with me and that’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me in the history of good things.’

Michael hit the ground again, but he was giggling nervously. “W-wow, so I take it you aren’t uncomfortable with my pick up lines.” He helped himself up, taking a few steps closer to Jeremy and away from the ice. Jeremy bit his lip, bringing his hands up to cup both sides of his face. “Really bad p-pick up lines...”

Michael reached up and took both of Jeremy’s hands in his own, bringing them down to their sides. Jeremy met Michael’s gaze, heart beating fast. Michael looked hopeful, nervous, and...in love. Jeremy exhaled sharply at that realisation. That look was familiar to Jeremy. He knew that look. He wore that look. 

“Could I...um, would you mind if I...?” Michael’s eyes flickered from Jeremy’s eyes to his lips nervously. Jeremy couldn’t help the desperate laugh that escaped his lips. “Please.” He begged.

Michael leaned forward, having to step on his toes to reach Jeremy. Their lips collided a little clumsily, teeth grazing and noses bumping. Jeremy brought his hand up and cupped Michael’s cheek, moving his head to the side a bit so he could angle the kiss. It felt like the cold didn’t even exist anymore. Michael’s lips were there, pressed against his own. There Michael went again, making an entirely different universe for Jeremy to live in. 

After a few moments, both of them seemed to realise that a kiss should probably be more than two people’s lips pressed together. 

Experimentally, Jeremy opened his mouth a little and then closed it again. He had no idea how to kiss, but that’s kind of what it looked like couples did in movies. Michael seemed to catch on to that too, and shifted his lips a little. 

Soon they had a little rhythm going. Jeremy would shift his lips and then Michael would move his back in response. 

Jeremy pulled away to breathe a little, hand rubbing absentmindedly on Michael’s cheekbone. Michael looked dazed, and if Jeremy was being honest, he probably looked the same. “Warm.” Michael said plainly, a dopey smile on his lips. Jeremy giggled at that, heart surging suddenly. He moved foreword and wrapped his arms around Michael, burying his head into Michael’s shoulder. Michael started laughing too, and soon they were giggling together. 

Before Jeremy could suggest they just go back home and forget about their seve-leve pit stop, Michael was pulling Jeremy back into another kiss.

This time, both of them were desperate for contact. Jeremy kept both arms wrapped firmly around Michael’s waist, and Michael’s hands cupped Jeremy’s face. Their lips moved a little more furiously. 

And then, almost accidentally, Jeremy’s tongue swiped over Michael’s bottom lip, and Michael let out a groan, and Jeremy suddenly felt like they could never be close enough. 

Michael opened his mouth up, and Jeremy delved inside. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but his tongue seemed to be moving on it’s own accord. As the cold pressed against them, Jeremy explored the inside of Michael’s mouth. Every once in a while Michael would let out a muffled whine, and Jeremy would almost smile and ruin the kiss. 

They pulled away again, this time flushed and out of breath. Michael finally leaned back off his tip-toes, making him an inch or two shorter. Jeremy couldn’t hold back a smile. “You’re so short.” Michael rolled his eyes, nudging Jeremy away. (Only to just scoot closer again.) “You’re just freakishly fall.” Michael leaned up again to press a kiss to Jeremy’s nose. “Tall-ass.” Jeremy blushed but smiled giddily from the kiss. 

Michael and him had kissed. Holy shit. 

“We should probably get back home.” Michael said, grabbing one of Jeremy hands and sliding his own into it cautiously. Jeremy glanced down at their hands. Pale against tan. Long against short. Smooth against smooth. Perfectly melded together. 

The two walked back to Michael’s house like that. Hand in hand. Jeremy had long forgotten about the cold. 

A good ten minutes later, they were back in Michael’s basement. As Jeremy slid off his boots and jacket, Michael sat on the edge of the bed. All he’d had to do was take off his shoes. Michael lived in his hoodie. (And if Jeremy found that adorable, no one had to know.)

“I wanted to ask...” Michael said suddenly. Jeremy turned, feeling a little anxiety spark in his chest. “A-about the kiss. And...and all.” Michael continued. Jeremy physically felt the blood drain from his face. Had Michael not meant it? Maybe it had all been just an impulse. That would make sense. It’s not like anyone would willingly want to kiss Jeremy.

Jeremy joined Michael on the bed, hands intertwined and fiddling together. “We can, um, pretend it didn’t happen. If you...if you want.” Jeremy rambled before he could stop himself. Michael’s head snapped up, and such a sad and betrayed looked passed over his face Jeremy wanted to slap himself. “No! No, no, no, that’s not what I meant! I just—I didn’t know if, like, you didn’t like it, or...?” 

Michael rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly. “What the hell Jeremy, of course I liked it. I’ve been gay for you, since like, middle school.” Jeremy licked his lips. “R-really?” Michael nodded, tapping his feet on the carpet. “Really.” A fuzzy feeling spread throughout Jeremy’s body. Michael had liked him for a long time. Michael liked him right now. 

Distantly, Jeremy wondered how hard it had been for Michael. Jeremy had left him waiting for so long. Gushing to Michael about Christine during most of their junior year. And then abandoning him... Jeremy felt like an oblivious jerk. But that was for another time. Right now...

“Do you want to date me?” Jeremy blurted. Michael glanced at Jeremy, eyes wide behind his glasses. He seemed to be searching for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to have found it, because he leaned forward and pressed their lips together again. Jeremy melted into the warmth. 

When they pulled away, Michael whispered, “Yes, please.” 

Jeremy’s life was like a scattered game board.

But maybe Michael could help him keep the pieces together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was all you wanted, Vitaminz!
> 
> I’ll be posting chapters in the order they were commented. This one was written so quickly because of the unexpected free time I had (yay for me). I’ll try to get one prompt done a week! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, lovelies! ^^


	3. What Happens In The Boys Locker Room Stays In The Boys Locker Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School was enjoyable enough for Jeremy up until seventh period P.E.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you are, guitar_babe! Sorry it took so long to write, I had a busy week. 
> 
> (Also, I made Michael trans, so I hope you don’t have anything against that.)

School was enjoyable enough for Jeremy up until seventh period P.E. 

“We’re doing timed sprints today.” Chloe raised her hand to high five Jeremy as they passed each other in the hallway. Jeremy brought his arm up and let their hands brush, but internally, he was screaming. “Sprints? Oh my god, I’m going to be dead by the end of the day.” Chloe just shrugged and smirked slightly, calling over her shoulder, “Have fun!”, and leaving Jeremy to suffer. 

See, Chloe and Jeremy had a system. They always took the same route down the same hallway during the passing period between sixth and seventh. That way Chloe could inform Jeremy as to what would be going down in gym. (Chloe had P.E. with the rest of the gang sixth period. Which kind of made Jeremy bummed.) 

But at least he had his player one in class with him. And, if he was being completely honest, that was all he needed. 

As Jeremy entered the boys locker room, he was hit with the unpleasant scent of dirty clothes and sweaty bodies. 

Jeremy had noticed over the years that there were three categories when it came to dressing out. Category A: the kids who somehow always got to class early and were already changed when everyone else arrived. Category B: the kids who got to class on time and changed out in regular time and fashion. Category C: the kids who were so embarrassed of their own bodies that they were never seen around. They could usually be found changing out in crusty locker room bathroom stalls.

Jeremy fit into Category B for the most part. There were days when he was a C, but on those days, his best friend usually held up a towel to hide Jeremy from the world. 

So, as Jeremy walked through the locker room, he mentally crossed off each category. The already changed popular kids, check. The currently changing kids who were rummaging in their lockers, check. Michael looking moody and slightly annoyed beside his locker, check. 

Wait- Jeremy had to backtrack in his brain, blinking a few times. By then, Michael had spotted him. 

“Jeremy!” He hissed, waving his hand furiously, beckoning Jeremy over. Jeremy licked his lips as he approached, hand going to his lock to open it as he asked, “Michael? Why, um, why aren’t you changing?” He asked. Michael sighed and mumbled. “I wore a dress shirt today because I had a presentation in history and inay insisted I wear something nice so—“ Michael huffed slightly, holding up a faded Zelda t-shirt for Jeremy to see. “I have to change my shirt today.” Jeremy’s mouth formed into an ‘O’ of realisation as his locker lock popped open. 

Michael Mell, the scoundrel, had just gotten permission a few months ago to change out in the boys locker room. And though Michael was loud and unashamed of being trans, he was still a little shy about showing people his binder. Jeremy was one of the very few allowed to see Michael without a shirt on. Besides that, Michael didn’t want his ‘boys locker room rights’ to be taken away. “I can just picture everyone making a big deal out of it. And then the teachers would say it would just be easier if I went back to the girls locker room.” Michael had explained to Jeremy once in a familiar basement. 

So, without a word, Jeremy pulled out the towel in his locker and held it up like a curtain. He gave Michael a winning smile and said, “Just returning the favour.” Michael stood still for a second, eyes slightly wide behind his glasses. Then he suddenly shifted into a grin, reaching forward and punching Jeremy’s arm. “Thanks.” He muttered. Then he began to change.

Oh yay, the fun part. 

Jeremy always tried his best to not stare as his friend changed. But given the fact that 1. Michael was kind of really hot and 2. Michael kind of always changed right in front of Jeremy, it was really hard. So as Michael slipped off his shirt, Jeremy had to pinch himself so he’d look away. 

Michael, to Jeremy, was the most gorgeous thing that had ever existed on this planet. Michael was short and small, which made him cuddle-able. He was chubby and soft, and Jeremy found that adorable no matter how much Michael complained about it. And then there were Michael’s thighs—

“All done. You can change now. Need me to hold up the towel?” Michael offered a small smile as he stuffed his hoodie and clothes into his locker. Jeremy waved his hand, flushing as he was drawn from his thoughts. From his very gay thoughts. “N-Nope! I’m good! I’ll change now!” Jeremy blurted the words awkwardly before beginning to change. 

Michael snorted slightly and nodded. “What did Chloe say we were doing?” He asked. Jeremy’s nervous state seemed to dissipate in a second. He groaned at the thought. “Timed sprints.” Michael groaned too, looking like his inay had just teased him about Jeremy. (Which had happened more than once. More often recently.) Jeremy nodded solemnly in agreement as he finished changing into his shorts. 

Oh yay, the not-so-fun part. 

Jeremy hated his own body. He was too skinny and too thin and too pale. He was tall and just...Jeremy could go on and on. He could list how his ribs could be seen fairly clearly through his skin. He could point out how his elbows stuck out like bony knives. Jeremy didn’t like to get into it. Especially in a stinky locker room. 

When he was finally changed, Michael grinned and looped their arms together. “Sprints and sweating and exercise, oh my!” He sang the words, ending his sentence with a dramatic gasp. Jeremy broke into a giggle and playfully punched Michael’s arm away. “Not even the great Oz can help us now, Micah.”

Together, the two made their way into the gym. The teacher, Coach Gallindo, was standing towards the door of the boys locker room, arms crossed. “He looks pretty grumpy today.” Michael whispered to Jeremy, cupping his hand to the side of his mouth. Jeremy huffed slightly, already able to picture how Gallindo would be forcing them to run faster in his mind. “I’m going to need a joint tonight.” Jeremy muttered. Michael perked up at that, eyes shining behind his glasses. 

“Woah, really? You always get mad at me for smoking.” Michael was practically bouncing on his feet now, excitement apparent on his face. Jeremy shrugged, making a so-so gesture with his hand. “I’m not against smoking, Michael, I just think you shouldn’t smoke as a coping thing. That’s—and don’t even try to deny it, I know you do it when you’re stressed,” Jeremy pointed his finger at Michael, who lifted both hands in surrender, pouting slightly. “That’s not healthy. But, on days like this, when I’m pretty sure I’m going to die...a blunt is much appreciated.” Jeremy allowed himself to slouch, arms dangling at his side. He did not want to do timed sprints. 

Michael suddenly brought his hand up and draped it around Jeremy’s shoulder. He shifted close in such a way that their cheeks were pressed together, to where Jeremy could feel the heat radiating off of Michael’s body. It made him blush furiously, but Michael didn’t seem to notice. “Cheer up, dude. I’ll buy you a large slushie on our way home, and then we’ll get stoned in my basement and play video games until dawn. Deal?” Michael lifted his free hand, offering a bro fist. Jeremy bit his lip and tried to calm his blush down, bumping their knuckles together. “Deal. Thanks, man. You’re the best.” Michael gave a cheeky smile, squeezing Jeremy slightly. “That’s what I do.” Jeremy chuckled at that. Silence passed over them. 

Jeremy had heard somewhere that the left side of your brain was the tactical, logical part and that the right side of your brain was the emotional part. And as the silence passed between then, his brain had an argument with itself. 

Right Brain: You should tell him. 

Jeremy’s Soul: Um, no. Not now. 

Left Brain: Yes, I agree. Revealing our crush on Michael now would only end in—

Right Brain: Happy endings and—*gasp* sex?!

Jeremy’s Soul: Jesus Christ.

Left Brain: You know, it actually might end in sex. It could. There’s a...73% chance. 

Right Brain: Tell Michael!

Jeremy licked his lips, and before he could stop himself, he was blurting, “Michael, we need to talk—“

And then Coach Gallindo chose that moment to blow his whistle loud enough to make everyone’s ear drums bleed. “Everyone outside on the track! We’re doing timed sprints today! Uh, Mell! Come help me with the stopwatches!” Coach waved Michael over, looking impatient. (Despite everything, Coach Gallindo had been one of the first to fully accept Michael. He had voted on the school board comity that Michael get full rights to boys’ bathrooms and locker room.) 

“Sorry, Jerbear. We’ll talk later! I’ll get us the good stopwatch.” Michael winked and unwrapped his arm from around Jeremy, rushing over to Coach. Jeremy nodded and watched him run over and walk into Gallindo’s office to retrieve the watches, then turned and followed everyone else out to the track. 

While he was walking, someone tapped on his shoulder. Jeremy turned, a little startled. “Hey.” A girl with curly blond hair and green eyes smiled at him brightly, waving. Jeremy frowned slightly. If he was remembering correctly, this girl was... “Madeline? H-Hi.” Madeline brushed some hair behind her ear and fell into step beside Jeremy. Jeremy, being the awkward teenager he was, began fidgeting with the hem of his shorts. There was a beat of silence, and then she asked, “Is Michelle—“

“His name is Michael.” Jeremy corrected, voice venomous and sharp, defending Michael before his brain even knew what was going on. Madeline looked a bit taken back, and Jeremy suddenly rushed to apologise. “Sorry, sorry! It’s just that everyone, you know, everyone should accept that Michael isn’t Michelle anymore and all, and...” Jeremy swallowed, feeling himself rambling. Madeline shrugged slightly, looking a little uncomfortable but undeterred. “Right. Sorry. Michael. Is Michael your girl—er, boyfriend?” 

Jeremy tripped at that moment. Quite literally tripped and fell flat on his hands, the impact scraping his knees. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” He heard Madeline’s squeaky voice bleed into slight panic. Jeremy winced as he lifted himself back up, brushing off his hands and blushing. “Y-Yeah. I’m, I’m fine. And, to answer your question, no. Michael is not my b-boyfriend.” Jeremy managed to get the words out even though he felt like a tomato that was growing in vividness. Madeline’s face went slack for a moment. Then she shrugged, suddenly looking bored. “Whatever.” Then she jogged off to her friend group. Jeremy watch as the group of girls giggled together on the track. 

Jeremy huffed and inspected his hands as he waited for Michael and Coach Gallindo to show up. Not too bad, just a few scratches and a little redness—

“Woah! Jer, what happened?” A familiar voice suddenly boomed beside him, making him jump. He whipped his hands behind his back like an ashamed child, chuckling nervously. “O-oh, n-nothing. Nothing. Nothing happened. I’m fine.” Michael’s eyebrow raised slowly. “O...kay then.” Then he motioned to the cardboard box in his hand, shaking the items inside. “Stopwatches.” Michael said plainly. Jeremy smiled, reaching in and grabbing the best one. It was probably the latest version of stopwatches they made, since it was shiny and new compared to the others. Jeremy and Michael shared a grin as Jeremy claimed it. 

“Alright, cupcakes! Everyone get into pairs! You’ll be sprinting 100 meters, then 200 meters, then 300 meters. And we’ll tally down who ran the fastest in each period, and then there will be a competition with the seven kids who make it to the finals.” Coach Gallindo announced it like he was commentating the Olympics. Michael nudged Jeremy slightly, giggling under his breath. Jeremy grinned back as everyone started pairing up. 

As expected, Michael and Jeremy paired themselves together. 

“Who’s running first?” Jeremy asked, fearing he already knew the answer. Michael clicked his tongue, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Jeremy let out a strangled groan, about to tell Michael that he just didn’t want to run today when: “How about Rock Paper Scissors?” Michael offered, grinning wickedly. Jeremy brightened at that, bringing his hands up and nodding. “Y-Yeah! Definitely.” 

So they brought their hands together. “Rock,” Michael said, eyes flashing behind his glasses. “Paper,” Jeremy replied, feeling a sudden nervousness as Michael’s glance. “Shoot!” They both yelled in unison. 

Michael held out a rock. 

Jeremy held out scissors. 

“Uh...how about two out of three?” Jeremy muttered nervously. Michael burst into laughter, nudging Jeremy towards the starting line. “Get over there, nerd.” Jeremy stumbled slightly, but managed to stick his tongue out and pout at Michael. “Dork!” He called back. Michael flipped him off. 

“Mr. Mell!” Coach yelled from across the track. Michael sheepishly waved his hand in apology as Jeremy smirked. 

And then he got into line beside a few of his others peers, standing in the closest line to the grass. Michael stood right next to Jeremy and crouched down a little. 

“Okay, Jer,” Michael said, shifting on his feet. Jeremy crouched down a little too, glaring at Michael. “You lost the right to call me Jer when you made me go first.” Despite Jeremy’s frown, Michael grinned back and motioned to the timer in his hand. “Fine then, Jeremiah, on your mark...” Some of his teammates began to take off down the track. Jeremy watched them with wide eyes. “Get set...” Michael said. ‘It really shouldn’t be this hard to run 100 meters.’ Jeremy though to himself pointedly. “Go!” Michael waved his hand frantically towards nowhere in particular. 

Jeremy remembered thinking, ‘Wait, I have to run a 200 and 300 meter dash too’ before his legs started moving. 

Jeremy had always hated running. Ever since he was a child, he’d hated the feeling that running gave him. And it wasn’t even the burn in his legs or the beat of his heart or how he’d be so out of breath and sweaty when he was finished. It was the fact that because of how thin he was, when he ran, it felt like he’d blow away in the wind. It felt like he was on the verge of losing control. 

It was a deep reason for hating running, but it was Jeremy Heere talking, so.

When he crossed the 100 meter line, he skidded to a stop, jogging a few more steps. Michael began to half jog towards Jeremy, so Jeremy met him halfway. After he’d stopped running, the work suddenly hit him. When he reached Michael, he was huffing. 

“21.6 seconds.” Michael announced, squinting his eyes to shield some of the sun that shone down on him. “That’s terrible.” Jeremy muttered. Michael scoffed indignantly, coming up to pat Jeremy’s shoulder. “Oh, come on! Give yourself some credit! Those long legs are useful when it comes to running!” Leaning in a little closer, Michael nudged Jeremy in the ribs, winking slyly. “And, uh, other things.” Jeremy flushed a deep breath and hit Michael playfully. “Jesus, Mike!” 

Jeremy ran his 200 meters (59.8 seconds) and 300 meters (67.9 seconds) and, after he’d finished, he found that it actually wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. 

“Alright. My turn.” Michael pressed his lips together, placing his hands on his hips after handing Jeremy the stopwatch. “If,” Jeremy placed his hand on Michael’s shoulder, pretending to sniffle and cry. “If you don’t...come back...I just,” Jeremy could tell Michael was trying hard not to laugh. “I just wanted you to know—“ He gasped dramatically and covered his eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. Michael burst into laughter, shoving Jeremy away. 

But underneath the light in his eyes, Jeremy noticed something else. He caught a little glimpse of...sadness? Longing? Jeremy wanted to take a snapshot of that moment and analyse it later; wanted to tuck the memory away to solve and prod at. But then Michael was bounding over to the line and over exaggerating his arm and leg stretches. 

So Jeremy just sighed and cued Michael to run.

Boy, did he forget about the weird moment quick. 

Michael had never liked exercise. Jeremy had never liked it much either, to be honest. But sometimes, Jeremy would try to get Michael to do something—anything—athletic. Because of this. 

As Michael ran, it was like time froze. Jeremy could make out everything. The strain of Michael’s legs as he pushed into a sprint. The sweat that beaded his forehead and slid down onto the back of his neck. And that look of determination. The curve of Michael brow as he focused on the 100 meter line. 

It made Jeremy shudder. So much that he nearly forgot to stop the timer when Michael sped over the line. 

“Whoo!” Michael threw his hands in the air, grinning and huffing. Jeremy glanced back up hurriedly from the stopwatch, eyes slightly wide. 

God, why did Michael have to be so pudgy and so, so, so beautiful?

“What was my time, Jer?” Michael yelled as he jogged over. Jeremy pinched himself to snap out of his thoughts, instead plastering on a smile and holding up the stopwatch. “20 seconds exactly.” Jeremy replied with a grin. Michael broke into a snort, pumping his fist in the air again. “Beat you by a whole second. Tell us,” Michael held up a fake microphone to Jeremy’s face, raising his eyebrows. “How does it feel to lose to your best friend, who, frankly, has short legs and should have been easy to beat?” Jeremy rolled his eyes and shoved Michael away. “Shut up and go run your other sprints, Micah.” 

Michael wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, giving Jeremy’s side one last poke. “Ooo, nickname.” Jeremy flushed, rushing to defend himself, but Michael was already moving on. As Michael ran off, he called, “I can’t believe you done this!” Over his shoulder. 

As soon as Michael’s back was turned, Jeremy allowed himself to breath. 

Left Brain: He’s onto you. 

Right Brain: YAY! HE’LL TELL YOU HE LOVES YOU AND THEN YOU TWO WILL HAVE GAY SE—

Jeremy’s Soul: Please leave me in peace.

Michael ran his 200 and 300 meter dashes in slightly better times then Jeremy had. And the entire time, Jeremy found himself practically drooling over those legs that Michael had. Jeremy could imagine them doing other things instead of running. Like wrapping around his waist. Like slamming against his torso as Michael bounced—

Woah, there. Jeremy felt his bottom half stir at the thoughts, but he pushed them down as Michael came back up to him with the box of stopwatches. They were walking back to the gym with the rest of the class, a little behind the crowd. It felt familiar there. Where they could hear the faint murmur of people but weren’t exactly in it. 

“So, are you as dead as you thought you’d be?” Michael inquired, smirking slightly. Jeremy shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I think I’ll always be a little dead.” Michael burst into laughter, hunching over a little as he snorted. “Amen to that, Jerbear!” 

As they entered the gym again, Jeremy caught Madeline’s eyes. She wore a smirk as she motioned to Michael and made kissy lips. 

Jeremy had to pinch himself to stop the feverish blush from spreading past his ears. 

//

The next few weeks passed without much to mention. Except for Michael still being unbelievably hot and Jeremy constantly suppressing his urge to just kiss that goddamn gorgeous smile off his face. Every time Jeremy watched his friend pull his pants off in the locker room, it added another dime to his rapidly growing jar of dimes in his mind. (He added one every time he grew aroused because of Michael.)

“Jeremiah Ariel Heere, we need to talk. Right now.” Jeremy turned to the voice, blinking in confusion. Before he could so much as make out a face, a hand had slammed his locker shut, grabbed his shoulder, and began dragging him to who-knows-where. “I—uh—wait—!” Jeremy spluttered as he was pulled into—

When the world finally stopped rushing by, Jeremy pieced together that he had been kidnapped and dragged back stage. Or, more the break room where Mr. Reyes warmed up and ate his pockets. The person who had dragged him in was none other than Rich Goranski. 

“W-What? Why did you—um, you said we needed to talk? What?” Jeremy managed to stammer, heart still pounding in his chest. For a second there he thought was being dragged off my bullies or...a murderer. Something unrealistic. “Yes!” Rich hissed, practically bouncing on his toes. He reached forward and squeezed Jeremy’s shoulders, eyes wide and slightly alarmed. “You need to tell Michael about your crush.” 

Jeremy just about choked on the air that has been slipping into his lungs. 

“Um, no?” He tried weakly, pushing Rich’s hands off his shoulders. Rich pressed his lips together, crossing his arms. “You need to. You have to. I just—ugh, you’re killing me, Smalls,” Rich groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. Jeremy licked his lips, shifting on his feet. “I just know stuff you don’t. And I know that if you tell Michael...it’ll end well.” Rich motioned vaguely with his hands, eyes flashing with determination. 

“Wait—“ Jeremy’s eyes widened slightly. “Did he-? Did Michael tell you that he, you know...” Jeremy made a strangled whining noise in the back of his throat, motioning to himself. Rich opened his mouth, bringing a finger up. But then shut it again with an audible clack. Jeremy watched, on edge, as Rich seemed to make a decision. He met Jeremy’s eyes with a fierce look. “Just tell him. If it ends badly, you can tell Michael it was a joke that I, and only I, made up. But I swear on everything it will end up alright. O-k-a-y?” Rich said the word hesitantly, like he was walking on egg shells. Jeremy swallowed, the intensity of Rich’s gaze making him feel sweaty and nervous. 

If he told Michael...it could ruin their entire friendship. Michael would act weird and maybe start ignoring Jeremy. God, it could split them up for good. But...but, if what Rich was saying was true, Michael could end up being his boyfriend. They could end up dating. The thought alone made Jeremy dizzy with giddiness. 

“Okay.” Jeremy breathed out. “What?” Rich said blankly, like he hadn’t been expecting that to be what came out of Jeremy’s mouth. “Okay. I’ll do it.” Jeremy confirmed his answer, turning on his heel and marching towards the door. He had a P.E. class to get to. 

At the last minute, Rich reached out to grab Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy turned, eyebrow raised. Rich took a deep breath and said, “I just wanted to let you know that I’m being a great wingman because you were a great wingman. You know. With Jake.” A slight pink dusted Rich’s cheeks, and Jeremy almost pointed it out teasingly. Instead, he just beamed and nodded. “Of course. Thanks. Wish me luck.” 

And then he was gone and on his way towards seventh period. 

“Basketball.” Chloe said to Jeremy as they passed in the hallway. Jeremy flashed her a smile and a thumbs up, continuing on. He marched straight into the locker rooms, got hit by the disgusting wave of scent, spotted the populars already dressed, and finally pinpointed Michael. He was reaching into his locker, fishing around for something. Jeremy approached hesitantly. 

“Hey.” He said. Michael turned, and his features immediately brightened. “Hey, Jer! What’s up?” Jeremy couldn’t help but slip back into normal, casual conversation. “Oh, nothing much. Chloe said we’re doing basketball today.” Michael clicked his tongue. “Noice.” Jeremy chuckled slightly, unlocking his own lock, beginning to get dressed. 

Okay then. Wasn’t telling him now. His moment had passed. 

When the pair exited the locker rooms, Madeline bounded up to them. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, curls bouncing. “Hey guys!” She said, a dazzling smile on her lips. “Hi.” Michael said, waving slightly and looking vaguely confused. “Hi, Madeline. Did you...need anything?” Jeremy questioned, fiddling with his shorts. Madeline smirked, looking back and forth between Michael and Jeremy for a second. Then said, “Nope!” And skipped off, back to her group of friends. Jeremy blinked. 

“Well that happened.” He said finally. Michael sighed, pointing in Madeline’s direction. “That right there, my friend, is why I’m gay.” Jeremy snorted, jabbing Michael’s side with his elbow. “Ow!” Michael cried, but there was a grin on his face. Jeremy just rolled his eyes at the fluttery feeling that smile alone gave him. 

A few minutes later, Coach Gallindo let them get basketballs and just do free shots. “It’s an easy Friday.” He had explained. 

“Wanna do a one on one?” Michael asked Jeremy, somehow already holding a basketball. And one of the good ones, too. “How do you do things like this?” Jeremy asked, motioning to the ball in wonder. Michael smirked triumphantly. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” Jeremy grinned, stealing the ball from Michael’s grasp. “Michael Mell, magician extraordinaire!” He tried dribbling towards the nearest hoop, but ended up tripping on the ball as he moved forward. 

He let out an attractive gagging noise as he hit the gym floor. 

“Woah, there! Are you alright, Heere?” Coach peeked his head out of his office door, looking slightly amused. “Fine.” Jeremy wheezed out. Michael was giggling quietly in the background. 

“Wow, dude,” Michael eventually came over to help Jeremy up. Jeremy took the hand that had been presented to him and starting to pull himself up. “That was impressive. I’ve never seen anyone do that before.” Michael pretended to sound impressed, whistling lowly. Jeremy rolled his eyes, finally standing up straight. “Whatever—woah,” He suddenly felt dizzy. He reached out to cling on the nearest thing—which just happened to be Michael.

“Are you okay?” Michael asked, grin slowly slipping into worry. Jeremy brought the hand that wasn’t squeezing Michael’s arm to his head. “Y-Yeah. Just got a little light headed for a sec. That’s all.” After his momentary dizziness passed, Jeremy realised how close Michael and him were. He could feel Michael’s breath in the air between them. The small space of air between them. It would be so easy to just lean forward and press their faces together—

“Anyways.” Michael said suddenly, pulling away and picking up the basketball. It might have just been Jeremy’s imagination, but Michael looked a little flushed. It was hard to tell because of Michael tan skin. Either way, Michael plastered on a smile and tried to make a shot. 

He failed. 

Jeremy laughed and jogged to collect the basketball again. 

Okay, so he wasn’t telling him now either. Moment had definitely passed. 

Jeremy would tell him later. 

They ended up playing a really weird, made-up version of basketball were none of the rules applied, basically. You didn’t have to dribble when you moved, nor did you have to use only one hand. You could grandma-throw into the hoop or overhead toss. It was fun and caused a few bruises to form on Jeremy’s arms. “You bruise so easily.” Michael huffed with a grin. “Shut up.” Jeremy scrunched his nose up, smiling slightly. 

And then the hour of P.E. ran dry. 

The boys all swarmed into the locker rooms. Jeremy and Michael made their way to their lockers, both sweaty and breathing fairly fast. “Wanna wait until everyone leaves? You know, to shower? It’s Friday, so...” Jeremy trailed off, his change of clothes wrapped up in his towel, which he held in his hands. Michael glanced up from his own bundle of clothes, adjusting his glasses. “Hm?” 

A group of kids left the locker room, making it a little quieter. Jeremy could still hear a few showers running, though. He shrugged slightly, brushing some of his curls back. “I just mean—we could wait? So no one...sees?” Jeremy hoped he didn’t sound stupid. By the blank look Michael was giving him, he probably did. Jeremy was about to take it back, but Michael suddenly nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, that sounds good. Why didn’t we think of this before? We have gym last period. We never have to be body shamed again.” Michael winked, heading off towards the showers. 

Jeremy watched Michael retreat, blinking a few times. If he thought hard about it, he could understand why Michael had suddenly agreed. Michael probably thought Jeremy was having one of his days. One of his days where he just despised everything about his body and didn’t want anyone to see it. 

Left Brain: Perhaps I should have thought of this earlier. 

Right Brain: Wait, does this mean you two are showering together? 

Jeremy’s Soul: Is everything you think sexual? 

Right Brain: No. But I guess it’s kind of hard to not think sexually. 

Left Brain: Hard?

Right Brain: Bad.

Left Brain: Bad?

Right Brain: Rough. 

Jeremy’s Soul: Kinky. 

Jeremy smiled to himself as he began towards the showers, waving slightly to the last of the kids heading out. He heard the bell ring faintly outside the locker room doors. And one shower running. 

“No peeking.” Michael reminded him as Jeremy entered the communal showers. “I’ve seen you naked, like, twice.” Jeremy argued, but he mostly kept his eyes shut as he turned the water on and let it wash away his sweat. “And how many of those times were when we were over the age of seven?” Michael retorted. Jeremy could hear the smile in his voice. “...zero.” Jeremy admitted, rubbing soap over his shoulders. “Exactly. Now shush and scrub the sweat away.” 

They showered in silence after that. (Except for Michael singing, “Scrub scrub scrub scrub” under his breath to the tune of This Had Better Come To A Stop from Falsettos. Jeremy had answered by singing the right lyrics. “Chop chop chop chop.”)

Michael finished first, turning off the water and padding out. When the room went mostly silent, Jeremy opened his eyes. He finished washing off the soap in his hair and shut the water off. He took a moment to breath, thinking. 

Maybe he would tell Michael now. They were alone. And if Michael said no or got mad, he’d have the weekend to cool off. And then Jeremy could blame it all on Rich. 

Jeremy’s stomach was turning nervously as he dried off quickly, sliding on his clothes. The familiar blue cardigan slowed his heartbeat. Just a little. 

“I’m coming out now! Are you done changing?” Jeremy called out as he rounded corner of the enclosed shower space, a hand over his eyes. “Yeah, I’m done.” Michael laughed. Jeremy opened his eyes, peeking through the slits in his fingers. Michael was indeed changed, red hoodie thrown on, hair wet and ruffled. Jeremy paused, letting his hand drop. 

He had to do this now, or he’d lose his nerve. He knew he would. 

So Jeremy stomped over. He threw down his towel and shampoo on the bench. Then he reached forward, cupped both sides of Michael’s face, and pulled their lips together. 

As soon as their lips touched, Jeremy felt his body ease. It was like all the stress and nervousness had been pulled from his body. Because Michael was there, lips against his own, warm and welcoming. And right when Jeremy thought that maybe Michael might actually not want the kiss, that he’d royally screwed up, Michael was kissing back. 

And Jesus, was that the best thing he’d ever felt. Jeremy moved his lips, chasing that feeling of warmth and home. 

When they pulled away, Michael brought his hand up to cover Jeremy’s, looking wrecked and out of breath. He met Jeremy’s eyes, biting his lip. “That...you...I can’t even...how do you...English..?” Michael breathed the words, sounding dazed. Jeremy couldn’t resist the laugh that bubbled in his throat. Michael joined in too, grinning and pulling away to fix his glasses. 

“So, um, did you...I mean, you liked that, right?” Jeremy asked as Michael ran a hand through his hair. Michael glanced over at Jeremy with a look that read, “Are you crazy?” He scoffed and said, “Of freaking course I liked it. Jer, I hate to break it to you, but I’ve basically been in love with you since we were seven.” Jeremy let out a breath of relief that he hadn’t even realised he was holding. His face broke into a smile. “Thank god, I thought this would ruin, like, everything.” Michael smiled. Then he surged forward and enveloped Jeremy in a hug. 

Jeremy, though slightly surprised, hugged back almost immediately. It felt...nice. Michael smelled like cinnamon, weed, and for some reason, spearmint. Jeremy breathed it in, hugging Michael a little tighter. “I—“ Michael began to say something, but was cut off. His body started to tremble, and Jeremy felt his shoulder dampen. “Woah,” Jeremy pulled away just enough to look at Michael face. He was sobbing, tears spilling out of his eyes. “Micah? What’s wrong, baby?” Michael seemed to cry harder at the pet name. 

Jeremy gently pulled Michael down to sit on the bench, arm still wrapped around him. They sat down together, and Michael rested his head on Jeremy’s shoulder as he cried. Jeremy murmured sweet things, rubbing comforting circles into Michael’s back until finally, Michael seemed to calm down. 

“S-Sorry.” Michael apologised, voice raspy. Jeremy shook his head, “No! It’s okay.” Michael smiled slightly, voice wobbly as he said, “It’s just that I never thought this would happen. Do you realise how straight you seem? You seem like, your stereotypical straight boy. The textbook definition of straight.” Michael sniffled and wiped his face as he spoke. Jeremy snorted, smiling. “I’m uh, I think I’m bi? After Christine and I, you know, I just kinda...realised,” Jeremy struggled to find the right words, stuttering through them. Michael reached out and threaded his hand through Jeremy’s, squeezing. It made Jeremy’s heart flutter hopelessly. 

“I realised that there was someone else.” Jeremy met Michael’s red eyes, still damp from crying. “Someone else who’d always been there for me. Who had already accepted every part of me. And-and then I was like, ‘holy shit, I think I love Michael.’ And then Rich pulled me backstage out of no where today and told me to tell you because he apparently knew something I didn’t and—“

“Wait a second,” Michael squinted his eyes, sounding slightly irritated. “Rich told you what?” Jeremy frowned, licking his lips. “He told me...that I needed to tell you...and that it would work out fine. When I asked him if it was because he somehow knew if you liked me back, he changed the subject.” He glanced over at Michael, who was shaking his head and grinning slightly. “That bastard. I, I told him about my...crush, or whatever, last night. And made him promise not to tell anyone...” Michael pressed his lips together, looking slightly betrayed and like he might just kick someone. Jeremy shrugged and said, “I told Rich a few months ago. So he was probably just trying to set us up.” Michael sighed, obviously a little angry. Jeremy smiled. How did Michael look so cute when he was angry? 

“We can prank him or something. Don’t worry about it.” Jeremy leaned forward and pecked Michael’s cheek before standing up and picking up his dropped clothes. Michael still seemed like he was in a haze, but he finished putting his stuff away as well. 

Once everything was cleaned up, Jeremy took a deep breath before turning to Michael. “So...does this mean we’re dating. Or, like, can we date? If you want, I mean.” Jeremy rambled the words out, fiddling with the sleeve of his cardigan. Michael practically beamed, face brightening. He came over and took Jeremy’s face in his hands, standing on his tiptoes. Jeremy felt a blush creep down his neck. The look that Michael gave him made him feel warm and fuzzy. A warm thumb brushed over Jeremy’s bottom lip. 

“If you’d have me, I would love to date you.” Michael mumbled. Jeremy shuddered, leaning forward and pressing their lips together again. Michael let out a little sigh as their lips touched. After a moment, Jeremy pulled away and breathed. “Yes. Please date me.” Michael chuckled. “Will do.” 

They walked out of the locker room hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s that! I really hope you enjoyed and that it was everything you imagined! ^^
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Update: New Prompt Openings (yay!!?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new fandom open for prompts.

Hey everyone! I’m sorry I haven’t posted any prompts lately, I’ve been busy with life and planning out my multiple chapter fic (which you should tOTALLY go read). 

bUT. 

I have recently gotten into the musical Falsettos, and I was going through the fanfiction and ??? There just isn’t a lot of long, well planned one shots. I’m not dissing anyone’s fics, please don’t take that the wrong way! I just want to contribute something well thought out to show my appreciation of the beautiful musical. (Please go listen to it, it’s just,,ugh imma cry it’s beautitful ok?) 

Anyhow! I’ll take any Falsetto prompts if anyone has any! 

P.S. I’ll post the prompt you suggested soon, GirlyAnimePrincess! I give you my word! It’ll probably be posted around the end of this week.


	5. You’re My Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan forms plans to confess to Connor. But then...well, but then Connor doesn’t show up to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for GirlyAnimePrincess. SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. There’s, like, a little more ‘getting together’ than ‘caretaking’ ?? Hope that’s okay? 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT 8/07/18: SORRY! I didn’t realise that not all of the chapter was posted, but it’s all up now! So so sorry!

Evan might be insane. Just the slightest bit insane. At least, that’s what Jared tells him. 

“I didn’t know you were into vore, because that’s exactly what you’re going to get from him—ow!” Evan cuts Jared off by ramming his elbow into Jared’s side. “He’s not going to—I don’t—I’m not even—ugh, Jared,” Evan groans, burying his head in his hands, feeling the burn of his blush. He knew he shouldn’t have come to Jared Kleinman, of all people. Jared should have been the first one off Evan’s list. Evan should have gone to Zoe—er, no, that probably would of ended with his secret getting leaked. He should of gone to Alana then. Except for Alana has student council on Friday’s. Heck, Evan could’ve gotten better advice from his mom. 

“Hey, hey,” Jared’s voice is suddenly softer, almost apologetic. A hand rests gently on Evan’s shoulder. “Sorry. I’m shit at advice and relationships. As you can tell, since I’m single. For seventeen years running.” Jared lets his voice bleed into humour. Evan feels himself smiling and pulling his hands from his face, meeting Jared’s eyes. “Not true. You dated that elm tree back in fifth grade.” Jared gasps over-dramatically, a hand moving to rest over his heart, falling right back into his jokes. “Don’t bring up Oakley! It’s—it’s too painful!” Evan snorts, crossing his arms. “The name you gave him didn’t even fit! He was an elm tree, not a oak tree!” 

Soon they’d dissolved into laughs and snarky comments. Okay, Evan thought to himself as their laughs died down. I’m slowly remembering why I came to Jared. 

“Alright, back to the topic at hand.” Jared adjusts his glasses and then claps his hands together. He brings this up to his nose, inhaling hugely, and then back down, pointing them towards Evan. He can almost hear the ‘boi’ in Jared’s tone as he says, “You have to tell Conner.” Evan opens his mouth to explain in great detail to Jared why he absolutely cannot do this, but all that comes out is a strangled whining noise. Jared sighs exasperatedly. “Look dude. I can’t understand what you see in him. Most of the time he’s a complete dick,” Evan pouts slightly, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re an asshole sometimes too.” He mumbles. Jared just huffs and raises a finger. “There—there’s a ‘but’ to that, Ev.” Evan gives Jared a quizzical look, to which Jared replies by continuing his previous statement. “But, if you like him, I’ll support you. Plus, as your best friend, it’s my job to mess with your love life.” Evan snorts again, scrunching his nose up. 

“So, what? I’m just supposed to go up to him and be like, ‘Hey, Conner! I know I’m basically just a pudgy ball of anxiety, but I like you! Let’s go sit in the woods like always, but this time, let’s make out too!’ Does that sound good?” Evan gives Jared the most venomous glare he can muster, but judging by the amused look on Jared’s face, it isn’t as threatening as he means it to be. “Not...exactly.” Jared replies, biting his lip and glancing off into the distance, looking deep in thought. Evan runs a hand through his hair, anxiety finally rearing it’s ugly head. (Evan knew he’d been feeling way too calm about this whole ordeal.) 

“Jared, how am I supposed to even do this? I’m literally the most anxious person in school—n-no, the world. There’s no way he likes me back. P-Plus, if I tell him, I’ll just end up making a fool of m-myself. And o-our friendship will be ruined a-and—“ 

Evan is cut off as Jared’s hands cup both sides of his face, squishing his lips and face together. There’s a determined look in Jared’s eyes as he says, “Evan, I need you to do two things. One, calm the fuckity fuck down.” This makes Evan chuckle hesitantly. Jared brings Evan’s face close to his so that their noses are almost brushing, eyes locked into Evan’s with a ferocity that almost makes Evan look away. He feels the blush on his cheeks as Jared says, “And two, like always, the insanely cool Jared Kleinman has a plan.” 

//

“O-okay. Let’s go over th-the plan one more time?” Evan can feel his heart thrumming in his fingertips as he fiddles with his zipper. Jared spreads his hands, looking as exasperated as he always seemed to. Zoe placed a hand on Evan’s shoulder and beamed in that comforting way that always made Evan feel safe. “I’d hardly call it a plan, Evan. I’m putting the soda in his locker. All you have to do is stand behind Conner and wait for him to read it.“ 

“Yeah!” Alana agrees, practically bouncing on her toes. “And then you can get his attention and give him your other gift.” She motions to the bellflower in Evan’s hands. He feels like he might be slowly killing it with the excess sweat from his hands. As he thinks this, he rubs his free hand fiercely on his jeans. 

“Evan, chill. You got this.” Jared gives him a thumbs up and a grin. “Either way, Conner isn’t going to trip over it. I mean, he’s Conner. He’s in love with you.” Zoe shrugs nonchalantly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Evan almost chokes on the air slipping down his throat. Alana gives him one last smile before catching up with Zoe, who was making her way to Conner’s locker.

Evan watches from his locker as they approach Conner’s. Zoe turns the code into the lock. It seems to last forever, but Evan finally hears the telltale click on the lock opening. Zoe makes a show of waving the soda can around in Evan’s direction. He flushes and looks away, hiding behind the door of his locker. 

What if I can’t do this? He thinks. I’m already sweating, I feel like I’m going to throw up, and Conner isn’t even here yet! Evan wipes his forehead. Why would he want to this at school? He should have done it somewhere private, so that when Conner rejected him, he could at least let himself cry in the privacy of his bedroom. 

No, Evan chides himself. Conner himself had been teaching Evan to stop degrading himself. Evan knew better than anyone that lies were never the answer, and if he kept this a secret any longer, it would count as lying. So Evan gripped his slowly wilting bellflower and waited for Conner to show up. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

The first bell rang. 

Evan kept waiting. 

The second bell rang. 

“Mr. Hanson, are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to join me for class?” His first period teacher, Mr. Martin, waved expectantly towards the door of his classroom. Evan opened his mouth to rush out an apology, but was suddenly hit was a realisation. What kind of person would he be if he went all out for this and then let it fall apart? Evan said he was going to do this. So he was going to do it. 

“Sorry, Mr. Martin. I...um, I’m ditching class.” Evan rubbed the back of his neck nervously, taking a step or two towards the doors down the hall. “Excuse me?” Mr. Martin raised his eyebrows. Evan turned on his heel and ran before he lost his nerve. “Sorry!” He yelled back as he exited the school. 

As Evan was hit with the warmth of spring, he prepared himself for the feeling of anxiety to wash over him. He was skipping class. What would his mom say? What if he missed a huge pop quiz? What if, what if, what if. But as Evan took a few more steps away, he found those thoughts never came. In fact, he felt sort of...free. “I’m a rebel now.” Evan smiled to himself dorkily. 

His phone beeped then, reminding him that he had a task. Pulling his phone from his pocket, his feet began towards Conner’s house. (There was a bridge a little before said boy’s house that Conner usually ended up at when he ditched school.) The message was from Conner. 

Conner >///<  
-Stop freakin out. Im just sick. Chill. U can com c me after school

Conner knew him so well. When he didn’t show up for school, Evan always got a little panicky. He walked a little faster. Turns out he‘d actually be going straight to Conner’s house. 

Conner >///<   
-On second thot im sick so dont com over. -I repeat DO NOT COME OVER

Evan smiled to himself as he typed out a reply. 

Me  
-Because I always listen to what you tell me to do, don’t I? :p  
Conner >///<  
-hoe dont do it  
Me  
-:ppp

Evan stuffed his phone in his pocket and walked a little faster, feeling slightly happier from just that little conversation. The flower in his hand still looked pretty, so he counted his blessings and kept walking. (Even when he awkwardly waved at a woman in her front yard gardening. Hopefully he looked like an adult to her. Or at least not a ditching senior.)

Halfway there, Evan realised that if Conner was sick, he least he could do was get something for him. As he glanced around for the nearest convenience store, he noticed a Subway right down the street. Taking a deep breath, Evan made his way over. He’d have to speak to another human and try not to mess up his(extremely simple)order, but it would all be worth it when he gave a nice cup of chicken noodle soup to Conner.

Five minutes later, Evan arrived at Conner’s home with a cup of clam chowder. (He really had tried. But the employee had misheard him and he hadn’t had the guts to correct him.) 

The driveway was empty, but Evan knew that Cynthia never left the house unless Bob was there. And Bob was at work until six. It was sort of funny, how Evan knew Conner’s life like it was his own. 

To avoid any problems, Evan made his way to the back of the house, where a tree stood in all its glory. If Evan survived the climb, he’d reach Conner Murphy’s window. As Evan looked up at the towering tree, he felt the anxiety start to kick in. Where I would I be without you, oh anxiety, Evan huffed and slipped the flower into the Subway bag, then tied said bag closed, looping his wrist through the plastic. 

Then he began to climb. 

It wasn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be. But every time Evan reached for another limb, he made sure his grip was firm. Trees...were a slight problem. Specifically climbing trees. Specifically climbing tall trees. 

Eventually, Evan made it to the slanted rooftop. He climbed on and immediately went to grip the windowsill. “Oh my gosh,” He gasped, sweating and breathing hard. But he survived, so Evan: 1, Tree: 0. 

Knocking on the window, Evan tried to flatten his hair down and wipe off some of his sweat with his shirt sleeve. He’d come all this way, and now he was all sweaty and gross. God, what if Conner thought he was so gross that he just slammed the window shut again? Or worse, what if Conner made direct eye contact with Evan and then ignored him? What if—

“Hanson?” Conner lifted the window, looking confused and tired. Evan swallowed back his fears best he could and waved awkwardly. “H-Hi. I, um, I made it my goal today to break the rules. So I ditched class and disobeyed your order to not come see you.” 

“You had one job,” Conner chastised, but he was smirking slightly. “Come on in, Romeo.” Conner moved to the side to let Evan pass. Evan crawled through the window, trying to keep his balance. Even so, he tripped on the windowsill and went crashing to the floor. “Jesus!” Conner hissed, leaning down hurriedly to help Evan up. 

“Conner?” A familiar voice called from downstairs. “What was that sound?” Conner gave Evan a half-hearted glare before shouting back. “Nothing, Cynthia! Er, mom! Just tripped!” There was no reply, so Evan guessed they had averted the current crisis. 

“Still getting used to calling her that.” Conner muttered, moving to close the window again. Once he had, he turned around, hands on his hips, to look at Evan. “So. You ditched. How savage of you.” He punctuated the sentence with a wet sneeze in his elbow. Evan winced slightly. “Um, yeah.” 

“Well, don’t be a stranger. Mi casa es tu casa.” Conner reached over and grabbed a fuzzy skull patterned blanket, wrapping it around himself and taking a seat on the bed. Evan licked his lips and took a seat beside Conner, leaning his back against the wall and crossing his legs. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Conner said, “Woah, wait. Is that food?” He motioned to the Subway bag on Evan’s wrist. 

“Oh! Yes! It’s for you! I kinda forgot I had it, to be honest.” Evan hastily tried to pry the bag off and untie it. “Dude, relax. I’m not dying of starvation or anything.” Evan managed a shaky laugh in return as he pulled out the container of soup. “What kind of soup is it?” Conner inquired as he took the cup from Evan’s hands. “C-clam chowder. I tried to get chicken noodle soup, but I accidentally messed up the order—“

“Any food is good food. Besides, clam chowder is my favourite.” Conner paid no attention to Evan’s half attempted apologies. It’s what he usually did, anyways. As Conner began to eat, he added, “Thanks, Ev.” Evan felt his face erupt into a blush at the nickname. 

I’ll let him finish eating. Then I’ll tell him, Evan thought to himself, moving the bag over and taking the bellflower out. He slipped said plant into his pocket and then crossed his hands. 

“So. How’s being sick?” Evan asked. He immediately wanted to slap himself for such a stupid question, but Conner just chuckled darkly, mouth full of potatoes. “It’s awesome. I get to stay home, and Cynthia gives me all kinds of snacks, and I don’t have to deal with anyone’s bullshit.” He swallowed his mouth full, scooping out another. As almost an afterthought, Conner added, “I’m kinda glad you decided to come see me, though. Was kind of missing a long string of sorry’s for absolutely no reason.” Conner grinned at Evan as he took another bite of his soup, so naturally Evan smiled back, feeling slightly giddy. Conner had been missing him. Well, sort of. But still. 

Evan sat patientently as Conner finished his soup, even humming a little under his breath. He noticed Conner freeze as he began humming, so he stopped for a moment. But then Conner began to hum the same tune, bobbing his head a little. And so the two hummed a song together, Evan feeling himself sinking into a world that was entirely theirs. 

“Dude, thanks again. This soup makes my throat feel like it isn’t burning. Which is a plus.” Conner commented as he finished the soup, tossing the cup in the bag and tossing the bag randomly across the room. He then tightened the blanket around himself, sniffing and slouching down. Evan swallowed before clearing his throat. “O-Of course. I would have asked you if you needed anything else, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” After he said it, Evan realised he might not be being specific enough. “I-I mean, the surprise of me coming over. Th-the surprise being that I ditched and came over to—“

“You know, if you stopped over thinking so much, you’d be kind of cute.” Conner said emotionlessly, voice nasal and thick. Evan felt his heart hammer and his face burn. “Wh-what?” Conner merely hummed in reply, adjusting his hair and leaning his head back against the wall. Evan wanted to ask more, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. Conner...thought he was cute? It was probably just in the ‘I think my friend is cute, but no homo.’ Probably. Evan held his breath for a moment. 

“I can hear you overthinking.” Conner mentioned, rubbing his nose. Evan jumped, brought out of his trance. He opened his mouth to respond, but Conner cut him off with a violent sneeze. He covered his mouth with his elbow as another sneeze game out. And another. And another. Evan felt a certain panic grow in his chest as Conner continued to sneeze viciously for at least a minute. When he’d finally stopped, he groaned loudly. “Ugh...my throat hurts again...” 

Suddenly, there were footsteps outside the door. “Conner?” Mrs. Murphy’s voice came from outside. Evan’s heart skipped a few beats. Conner’s eyes widened as he rubbed his nose again. He motioned towards his closet hurriedly. “Go hide! Don’t make any noise!” Evan sprung up and rushed into the closet, expecting to have to squish himself between clothes. But Conner’s closet was actually fairly large. He didn’t even have to squeeze between any clothes. He had plenty of space to stand comfortably in the dark. 

Outside, the door of Conner’s room opened. “Hey, Conner. How are you feeling?” Mrs. Murphy asked, voice gentle and smoothed over. Conner sneezed in response. “I’m great. Having a blast sleeping this shitty cold away.” There was a pause of silence in which Evan swore he could hear the tension. “Er, crappy cold.” Conner’s voice broke the silence. There was a rustle and then a groan. “Awe, mom, stop!” Conner sounded only vaguely annoyed, an undertone of fondness in his voice. Mrs. Murphy laughed for a moment. Then said, “I only came to check on you. I’m heading out to the store to get a few things. Zoe texted me that she “urgently needed glitter and Borax” before she got home. And, uh, you know how your sister gets.” Conner gave a small chuckle, sounding awkward but...pleased, in a way. 

“Uh, yeah. Okay. I promise not to die while you’re gone.” There was more rustling and then a beat of silence. Then he heard Mrs. Murphy say in a slightly muffled, tender way, “I do love you, Conner.” 

Evan felt like he was intruding on something he shouldn’t be; like this was a conversation Conner and his mother had been having for a while and Evan shouldn’t be around to hear it. “I...I know.” Conner muttered. Mrs. Murphy sighed and then said, a little happier, “Well, I’ll be off then. Call me if you need anything, honey.” And then her footsteps trailed away, followed by the door closing. 

Evan took a moment to compose himself. He would act like he hadn’t heard anything. Running a hand through his hair, Evan turned the knob and opened the closet door, stepping out and feeling a wave of fresh air hit him. Conner smirked as Evan exited. “It’s about time you came out of the closet, Hanson.” Evan practically choked and tripped simultaneously. Conner just burst into laughter. 

Once Evan had finally joined Conner on the bed again, he took a deep breath. “A-Actually, I think I-I’m bi. Yeah,” Evan stammered, smiling slightly. Conner was silent for a moment, staring at Evan with a blank face. Evan began to feel regret pool in his gut. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Conner. 

“That’s—that’s awesome, Ev!” Conner was suddenly grinning widely, patting Evan’s shoulder enthusiastically. A smile slowly spread on Evan’s face, quickly growing in a grin. “Y-yeah!” He agreed, laughing slightly. Conner laughed a little too, but another sneeze interrupted him. Evan stood almost immediately, heading towards the bedroom door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Conner asked, sniffling. Evan smiled slightly, fixing his hoodie sleeve. “I spent a lot of time alone at my house. I have all kinds of sickness remedies. I’ll give you something that will, um, that’ll soothe your throat and clear your nose.” Evan shrugged slightly, blushing a little. Conner swallowed, expression unreadable. “Okay, cool. Hurry,” Evan nodded and hurried downstairs. 

He’d been in the Murphy’s home before, but for some reason, this time felt different. Maybe it’s because you’re sneaking around, Evan thought to himself. He managed to shake off any building guilt and instead focused on finding...

“Tea, tea, tea,” Evan murmured the word to himself as he searched the cabinets in the kitchen for any kind of tea. Luckily, in the cupboard above the stove, he found three boxes of different teas. Jasmine, oolong, and mint. Evan easily picked out two packets of mint tea. He then sorted through a few more cabinets until he found the pots and pans, pulling out a small pot and filling it up with water. After turning on the stove and setting the water to boil, Evan grabbed an orange from the Murphy’s kitchen table and began peeling it. 

Evan remembered getting his first cold. Somehow, he’d managed to never really get sick while his mother was around. But when she started leaving Evan alone at home, he supposed he didn’t have the same weird protection his mother seemed to have. When he was eight, he remembered waking up with a clogged nose and a dizzy head. Naturally, he’d done some research on the computer in the living room, wanting to be able to breathe normally. He was able to treat his sickness and feel better by the next day. 

Evan wouldn’t say that his mother was right to leave a little kid by himself all the time, but it certainly did help him take care of himself. And it was now helping him care for others. 

Evan positioned the orange slices on a small plate and then found two mugs, pouring the steaming water into them. Finally, he ripped open the mint tea packets and placed one tea bag in each cup. “Perfect,” Evan mumbled to himself, smiling a little.

He was about to resign to having to take two trips to Conner’s room when, by some miracle, he found a tray sitting on the counter. That would definitely save him from spilling tea and orange slices all over the stairs. 

When Evan arrived back to Conner’s room, Conner was laying down, eyes closed, an arm resting over his forehead. “I-I brought tea,” Evan stammered, walking over to Conner’s bedside table and carefully setting the tray down. Conner finally opened his eyes, sniffing loudly. “Oh, thank god. I’m about to lose consciousness over here,”

Evan let Conner sit up and lean back against his headboard, and then handed him a steaming mug of tea. “It’s-it’s hot. Boiling hot.” Evan motioned to the cup hurriedly as Conner went to drink it. “Duh,” Conner grinned slightly, rolling his eyes and sipping some of the tea. Evan bit his lip and sat cautiously on the edge of Conner’s bed, grabbing his own mug of tea and holding it in his lap. “I also brought orange slices. F-fruits and stuff help colds go away.” Conner glanced up from the rim of his mug. “Read than online somewhere?” Evan rolled his eyes, smiling. “Shush, it works. For me, at least.” Conner laughed at that, clear and amused. It made Evan feel a little better, knowing that he wasn’t being pesky or annoying. 

For a while, there was relative silence. Just the sounds of the two boys sipping their drinks and grabbing an orange slice every once and a while. 

Then, Conner asked, “Hey, why’s there a flower in your pocket?” Evan visibly winced at the mention of it, setting his cup down on the tray gently. If you’re going to do it, you might as well do it now, Evan thought to himself. “W-well...” He pulled the flower out of his pocket, offering it to Conner warily. Conner frowned slightly, setting his own tea cup down and taking the slightly crushed plant from Evan’s shaking fingers. 

Evan took a deep breath. How should he even start? How does one start a conversation like this? He nibbled on his lip and tried to calm his heartbeat, sorting his thoughts. Conner seemed to sense that he needed a minute, because he sat in silence, waiting. He’d wiped his face of emotion, though, like he didn’t know what to expect. To be fair, Evan didn’t really know either. He hardly knew what was going to come out of his mouth. 

“I like you.” Evan blurted before he could stop himself. At this, Conner’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “What?” Conner questioned, voice hard as steel. Evan swallowed, feeling a little sweat bead on his forehead. “I like you. A-a lot. We had this whole plan t-to tell you at school, but you didn’t show up! So I came over h-here to tell you but then I chickened out and then you noticed the flower and now I have no idea what to say,” Evan paused to breath, hands clutching the bedsheets. He looked down at his lap, not having the courage to meet Conner’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” Evan muttered. “You can say whatever you want, I-I’m not gonna start, like, breaking things or whatever,” He forced himself to stop speaking then, not wanting to screw this up any further. 

Conner didn’t say anything for a scary moment, and Evan just kept staring at his lap. Finally, Conner asked in a quiet voice, “You planned something?” Evan nodded hastily, wiping his hands on his jeans to try and rid himself of the sweat that was forming there. “Y-yeah. Zoe put a Crush soda in your locker, and Alana wrote ‘you’re my’ on it, and it was supposed to say ‘you’re my crush?’ I know it absolutely sucks, but I told Jared about it and Jared loved it, and you know how Jared is—“

“You know, if you stopped overthinking so much, you’d be kind of cute.” Conner said. Evan’s head snapped up at that, remembering when Conner had said that earlier. Conner wore a soft smile on his face as he held up he flower and said, “Thanks. That’s...sweet of you. The soda thing is so cliche but...sweet.” Evan sniffed, nodding along and smiling a little shakily. “Y-yeah, I know.” 

The silence seemed to stretch on for years. 

He’s obviously trying to avoid letting you down, Evan thought to himself. He’s giving you a chance to leave so he doesn’t have to say it out loud. He opened his mouth to announce he’d be leaving, but Conner’s hand suddenly came up to cup his face. Evan jumped, being forced to meet Conner’s eyes. “I like you too, you know. I was pretty sure it was hella obvious. I just kinda thought this was a big joke? Cuz why would Evan Hanson like me, the dickiest person in school?” 

“You’re—“ Evan swallowed, clearing his throat so it didn’t sound so scratchy. “You’re not a dick. At least, I don’t think so.” He smiled slightly, shrugging as he picked at the end of his t-shirt. Conner licked his lips cautiously. “Yeah?” Evan nodded in return, his heart rate finally seeming to settle a little. “Yeah.” 

Evan noticed Conner’s dopey smile, and it made him smile wider. He hadn’t seen Conner seemingly this happy since Green Day happened to be performing a concert in town. 

“I kind of really want to kiss you right now, but I don’t want to get you sick.” Conner said, sighing slightly and rubbing his thumb over Evan’s cheekbone. “H-honestly, I don’t mind.” Conner raised his eyebrows, smirking slightly. “Evan Hanson, savage extraordinaire. What is with you today?” Evan laughed along with Conner, feeling his heart skip excitedly. “You must be brushing off on me.” Conner shook his head slightly, smirk still prominent on his lips. “Oh, I’ll be brushing off on you very promptly.” 

Evan’s flustered spluttering was cut off fairly quickly after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! My updates are going to be suuuupper slow because I have a lot going on, but I will still try my best to write as much as I can! 
> 
> Drop a prompt if you have one, I’m still taking ‘em!


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